Late Night Rendezvous
by motorcyclesfly
Summary: Logan sets out to fix what he's destroyed. My take on the 'I'm not your father' scene, and written as an excuse to get Logan and Rogue in bed together. No, not like that!


It was late, and the mansion had fallen silent around them. Just the faint hiss and crackle of the dying embers, remnants of the robust fire that had burned merrily early in the evening, were left, those and the the soft sounds of Bobby breathing. Rogue glanced over to the boy sitting beside her, watching for a moment as his chest rose and fell with each exhalation. He had fallen asleep as she had studied the flames, but their fingers were still intertwined, visible proof of the changes that had taken place. A few weeks had already passed since she had taken the cure, but Rogue still marvelled at it each time she brushed against someone without feeling the sting of their invading memories, and she had felt butterflies in her stomach when, earlier that evening, Bobby had been the one to initiate contact by leaning in close and catching her in a kiss.

She should have been happy. Everything she thought she had ever wanted had fallen neatly into place. She had a terrific boyfriend who had supported her through the biggest change in her life; she lived in a beautiful mansion; had surrounded herself with good friends, even though she instinctually kept them at a distance. Now, she could even touch people, something she had dreamed of ever since that chaotic afternoon in Mississippi where she had rent the air with her screams as she felt another person's thoughts invade her own mind. But still, something was wrong.

_Logan_. Rogue pushed away the thought of him in annoyance, feeling a swell of anger as she thought of their last encounter, his brief, distracted comments, his condescending warning not to take the cure for a boy. _As if_, Rogue thought, frustrated. If he had known her at all, he would have known exactly why she wanted it so badly, but he had never bothered to ask, his thoughts occupied, as usual, by Jean. _Kid_, he'd called her, offering her a ride to town, but not a moment of real conversation beyond the vague, big brother assurances. _So much for taking care of me_, Rogue thought, ignoring the hurt that rose to the surface.

She nearly jumped as Bobby shifted beside her, stretching his arms overhead and stifling a yawn. "As much as I'd love to spend the whole night like this, I think I better get some sleep," he offered apologetically, standing. He leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers, smiling tiredly. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Bobby." Rogue sank back against the couch and flashed him what she hoped was a vibrant smile, something to cover up the fact that his kiss, far from sending shivers down her spine, only reminded her of her internal dissatisfaction.

She waited until the sound of Bobby's footsteps faded away before flinging herself back against the couch and sighing in relief, her eyes closed. _It isn't that I don't love Bobby_, she thought defensively to herself, thinking of the way her boyfriend's kiss had failed to ignite a spark of passion in her. He was just too..._comfortable_ at times. Unlike the man whose heavy boots clomped loudly as if warning her that he was approaching. Rogue sat bolt upright and glared at the doorway, perturbed but wholly unsurprised to see Logan lounging against the door frame, thumbs hooked in his belt loops, studying her appraisingly. He had begun to make a habit of stalking her as the days wound down to the wee hours, and though she usually managed to elude him by sticking close to Bobby, she had known he would catch her off guard at some point._ Sooner than later_, she thought bitterly, eyeing Logan suspiciously.

"Logan," Rogue started to say, but then she shook her head. She had absolutely no desire to start a conversation with him now, and besides, there was nothing to say. He seemed to follow her everywhere, and polite smalltalk was not an option when it came to talking with the Wolverine. Rising from the couch, Rogue tipped Logan a curt nod. She picked up an empty soda can and brushed past him rudely without another word, planning to hurry down to the kitchen and then retreat to her bedroom.

"Aw, come on Marie." Logan reached out for her, his fingers encircling her wrist easily, but before he could settle his grip, Rogue jerked away from him with a hiss as though burned by his very touch. Sombering a little, the forced smile fading from his face, Logan looked down at the girl before him. "Okay, what have I done now?"

Rogue spun around sharply on her heel, intending to give him an earful, but the expression on Logan's face stilled the words on her lips. He looked apologetic for once, and they both knew Logan rarely came close to saying sorry. Still, Rogue clenched her jaw defiantly, refusing to let go of the anger that smouldered within her. There had been a time when she would have done just about anything for him, but that was over now. He had withdrawn from her, dedicated his time to chasing Jean instead, and there was no way Rogue was going to forgive him for that so easily just because Jean was now dead. "Forget it."

"Marie!" Logan's voice came to her, startled by her fury and the look in her eyes. She had never looked at him like that, with a combination of sorrow and loathing. Usually, her eyes lit up when he walked into the room, and her whole being seemed to glow with joy in his precense, but lately, she regarded him with disdain, and slipped away whenever he attempted to question her.

"God, Logan, what? What do you want now?" demanded Rogue, exasperation evident in her tone.

Stung, though not confused, by the harshness of her voice, Logan strode over to Rogue's side. He reached out and cupped her chin in his palm for a moment, tilting her head so that she had no choice but to look at him. Her glare spat fire and regret at him, but he stared her down anyway, determined not to let her weasel away from him again.

They were both very conscious of the touch, their first since Rogue had returned from the cure distribution center, her arm stinging from the injection but her heart leaping in excitement and a little fear. Without her customary layers, Rogue felt naked enough as it was, and Logan's hands were bare. Each felt the spark of heat as their skin met, but Rogue pulled away after a moment, hating the longing Logan's touch inspired within her. He had no right to make her crave him, not after ignoring her for nearly a year while he persued, then moured, Jean Grey.

"Well, Logan?" questioned Rogue in a tone more angry than she felt. She jutted out her chin defiantly, still feel the place where he had touched her.

"What did I do?" Logan asked. "You can at least explain that to me, can't you. I think you owe me that much."

"I don't owe you anything," retorted Rogue loudly. She glared at Logan, but made no attempt to leave the room. "Do you realize, Logan, this is the longest conversation we've had in at least six months? And it wasn't my doing." She stepped back as he reached out for her, feeling a surge of pain along with victory as his hands dropped back to his sides. "I'm not Jean, Logan. You can stop pretending I matter to you at all."

With that, she turned and left the room at a run, afraid of what might happen if he reached out for her again. She could never fear Logan, of course, but she did not trust herself for another second under Logan's injured stare.

* * *

The ragged intake of breath from the person on the other side of the door made it clear to Rogue that her visitor was none other than Logan. She opened her eyes, staring at the ceiling as though to gather together every ounce of willpower, then flung away the blankets, reluctantly leaving the warm nest of bedsheets. She padded to the door and yanked it open, staring down her late night guest in the process.

"You were right, Rogue, and I'm --" Logan began, but Rogue interrupted him, successfully derailing the carefully planned monologue.

"Just save it, Logan," advised Rogue grimly. "Look, I'm completely exhausted, and I was actually having a really good dream too, until you woke me up." She glanced up and saw the pain clearly writ on his face. Taking in the way his eyes widened in surprise when it became evident that she was not going to melt just because of his desperate, puppydog expression, she crossed her arms over her chest, staring him down. "I don't have anything more to say to you, Logan, and as far as I'm concerned, I never will. So, how's about you just get out of my room and leave me alone."

Ignoring the harsh words the best he could, Logan looked past Rogue to the darkened bedroom, not entirely sure what he was searching for, knowing only that he needed to prove to himself that she was alone. He noted the rumpled bedclothes, which brought him back to the fact that she was dressed in nothing more than a short nightgown which was practically transparent. He cleared his throat, forcing his gaze to meet her eyes. "I need to talk to you. It needs to be now."

For a moment, they both thought Rogue might protest, but after a second she sighed and backed down, sweeping her arm grandly to indicate that he should come in. Shutting the door, she crept back to her bed and sprawled atop the covers, her hair splayed out across the pillows. "Well?" she prompted after a moment, when Logan did not speak. "You had something to say?"

"I'm sorry." Logan uttered the phrase with difficulty, feeling both exhilarated and embarrassed as he distractly glanced at Rogue's body, visually tracing the shadowy curves visible beneath the clingy nightgown. "Really," he added, his voice steady. Directing his burning stare to the headboard of the bed instead of the girl in it, he sighed. "I was...busy...but I should have been there for you, especially on the night you took the cure. I hate that I wasn't."

"Oh, hey, well, if you were busy." Not bothering to disguise her annoyance, Rogue let the sarcasm shine through in her words. "Don't bother, Logan. We both know why you weren't there." And why I needed you to be, she thought, but did not add aloud. She would not acknowledge that old crush now. "Too bad I didn't die instead of Jean, huh?"

Logan clenched his jaw, biting back the anguish her words inspired. He slammed his fist into the wall without pausing to think, hitting it hard enough to knock down the various photographs Rogue had hung up. She made no comment, simply watched as the pictures fell to the floor, their frames rattling. "Stop it!" Logan snapped, his voice raw. "Will you stop bringing up Jean every time I try to talk to you?" He forced himself to slow down, and exhaled slowly, struggling to regain composure. "Yes, I liked her. But that never meant I didn't love you."

For an instant, both froze. Rogue regarded Logan for a moment, wide-eyed like a deer caught in oncoming headlights. Then she slowly rose from the bed, walking over to Logan, closing the distance between them with each step.

Logan felt an electric surge flare up deep within him at the thought of her touch, but she did not reach for him as he an anticipated, merely jerked open the door and stabbed her index finger at the hallway. "Get out," she whispered, her voice deadly.

"Rogue," Logan breathed, blinking. Her reaction was like nothing he had expected, and certainly not what he had hoped for. "Just, give me a minute," he said quickly, touching her arm.

"Get the hell out of here," Rogue screamed shrilly, her voice loud enough to awake everyone in earshot. "Just get the fuck out and leave me alone! Go!"

"Marie..."

"What on earth is going on up here?" questioned a familiar, adult voice shrilly.

At the sound of Ororo's outraged tones, all of the student's slammed their bedroom doors in unison; all save one. Logan remained rooted to the spot, leaning against Rogue's door frame for support. He felt weaker than he had for months, more drained than he had been when he had awoke to find himself in a hospital bed after the events at Liberty Island. As he watched, Rogue burst into tears. The sight of her pain awoke within him a deep need to protect her, but as he reached out, intending to comfort her, she slapped his hands away. Retreating into the dark bedroom, Rogue dropped onto her bed, muffling her sobs with a pillow.

"Logan?" Ororo was mildly surprised to find him standing in Rogue's bedroom, especially so late at night. She knew they had once been close friends, but she was also aware of their falling out, and had witnessed the hurt on Rogue's face more than once when Logan had directed his attentions towards Jean. "I heard screaming?" she questioned, deciding to stick to the subject at hand. Logan did not look to be in the mood to be interrogated, and she had no desire to pick a fight with the Wolverine. "I heard someone screaming. What happened?"

"I had a nightmare," Rogue mumbled, sparing Logan the need to explain the situation. "I guess I woke everyone up," she added sheepishly, rubbing her eyes in a perfect imitation of someone who had just been roused by a bad dream. "I'm sorry, Storm."

"Don't worry about it," said Ororo softly. She flashed Rogue a reassuring smile, and glanced from her to Logan, puzzled. Rogue looked distracted, near tears, and Logan was slightly pale, his eyes glittering with intensity in the darkness. "Well, I guess I'll go back to sleep. Are you sure everything is okay, Rogue?" Without waiting for a reply, she turned to Logan. "Why don't you stay with her for a bit?"

"I don't need him," corrected Rogue as Logan nodded at Ororo. Choosing to ignore that, Ororo gave Logan a little push back into the bedroom.

"Goodnight," called the weather witch knowingly as she pulled the door closed behind her and retreated back to bed.

* * *

"He's a jerk."

"A complete asshole," corrected Jubilee. She added another scoop of cherry ice cream to the bowl she was filling and slid it across the table towards Rogue, her eyes filled with sympathy. "Can't he see you're not into him? I mean, come on, you've been with Bobby for, well, forever, right? Ever since you arrived here. And it's a little late for him to start showing off his sappy side now."

Instead of replying, Rogue toyed with the spoon in her hands, watching as the frost on the ice cream melted, turning her dessert into a stream of pink liquid. Dropping the spoon into the bowl, Rogue pushed the ice cream away. "Sorry," she said as Jubilee glanced over at her. "I'm really not hungry."

"Well, I am." Kitty picked up the discarded bowl and sampled the ice cream with a pleased smack of the lips. "Mmm, midnight snacks." She gave her friend a reassuring smile. "Don't let him get to you, Rogue."

Surrounded by her friends, Rogue wished for the sanctuary of her bedroom -- _the bedroom sans Logan, and preferrably with the door securely bolted_, she thought longingly. _If only Logan had left when Ororo had_.

Sighing, Rogue rested her chin in her hands and reflected on how it had been once Ororo had pushed Logan on her. Considering how comfortable she had once been in Logan's company, it was odd how nervous she had felt trapped in the semi-dark bedroom with him. Logan had paced in what she assumed was silent fury -- the idea that he had felt remorse seemed remote at best -- while she had shifted under the covers, trying to find a position that allowed her to relax. When Logan had finally opened his mouth to speak, she had leapt up and fled, seeking the security of her friends to spare herself having to consider what he must have been feeling.

"It's really something, you know?" mused Kitty. "I can't imagine Logan telling anyone he loves them, can you?" She reddened, reminded of Rogue's predictament. "Well, I guess _you_ can. Still, it's weird, huh?" She stared dreamily out the window into the humid night. "He never seemed the type to be, you know, very open about his feelings."

"Except to Dr. Grey," added Jubilee. "What?" she asked, as Kitty gaped in surprise. "Do you mean to tell me that you never noticed? Even Bobby knew about that, and he can be completely oblivious about emotions." Shrugging as Rogue shot her a glare, Jubilee shoved the ice cream container back into the freezer. "Well, it's true," she uttered softly under her breath.

Unable to feign acceptance for the topic any longer, Rogue slid off the barstool, tugging her nightgown down to cover her thighs. "Thanks for keeping me company guys, but if it's okay with you, I'm going to head back to bed."

"Are you sure? You're welcome to sleep in my room if you want," offered Kitty.

"Thanks, but I'm sure he's gone by now." Pushing a stray strand of hair out of her eyes, Rogue sighed, promising herself she was not going to cry despite the burning sensation of tears attempting to escape. She had no idea which she wanted more, for Logan to disappear and give her some time to think, or for him to be there, waiting for her, proving he actually cared as much as he claimed. She shrugged and smiled with some difficulty at her friends. "Goodnight."

* * *

Logan could not sleep. He had expected as much, given his tendency towards insomnia. Even on the best of nights, he had difficulty relaxing enough to drift into sleep, but on this night every time he closed his eyes he saw Rogue, her expression pained and her eyes accusing. The look he had last seen on her face was one of undeniable hurt, so different from the tender, even amorous way she had once looked to him. He knew there had been a time when simply walking into the room had made Rogue smile, but now she seemed distraught by his mere precense, and went to pieces whenever he attempted to speak to her.

All because of Jean, he thought, curling his hands into fists without being aware of it. Rogue might have believed that it had been Jean's pretty red hair that had attracted Logan's attention, but in fact, it was her unavailability that had made her the perfect target for him. Jean had been a convenient distraction, and the chase had given Logan something to occupy his mind besides the fury he felt whenever he saw Bobby Drake put the moves on his girl. Somehow, he had failed to assure Rogue that his interest in Jean was little more than a game, and that he had felt nothing for the good doctor beyond the affection between co-workers. Now, it seemed Rogue would never forgive him for it.

Muscles aching with exhaustion, his mind craving rest, Logan guessed there would be no sleep for him as long as the issue remained unresolved. He rolled out of bed, ignoring the protest from his body as he donned a pair of jeans and a tee-shirt. He yanked open the door and stepped out into the hallway. Rogue had to have come back to her room by now, he reasoned. As upset though she was, Logan had not missed the shadows that haunted her eyes, and he knew she would need sleep as badly as he did, perhaps moreso, a fact that would work in his favour and lure her back to her bedroom.

The halls were still; the mutant students slept. If anyone was awake in the school, they had fallen into a routine so silent that even Logan's superior hearing did not detect a sound out of place. He crept slowly towards Rogue's bedroom, the need the make her understand him a physical force now, causing him to tremble in anticipation. Not bothering to knock, Logan wrenched open her bedroom door, ignoring the fact that he had broken the lock.

"Rogue?" Logan questioned softly, scenting the air. His eyes adjusted to the light and he saw her, curled on her side in a heap of blankets, utterly peaceful.

The figure on the bed stirred slightly, but Rogue's need for rest had taken over, and she was deeply asleep. In the sliver of moonlight that shone through the window, she looked pale and delicate, but also calmer than Logan had seen her in recent weeks. Unable to stop himself, he reached out and stroked her cheek, smiling slightly at the sensation of her smooth skin and the absence of her powers.

Turning over on her back, her eyes still closed, Rogue's lips curved into a slight smile. "Bobby?" she began to say before trailing off.

Logan pulled back his hand, not knowing why it hurt so much that the first name that came to her was that of her lover and not his own. He stared at her for a moment, lulled by the peaceful relaxation of her features. As he watched, Rogue burrowed her face deeper into the pillow, her lips slightly parted as she drifted back to sleep.

Cautiously, so as not to wake her, Logan gingerly touched Rogue's hair, feeling the silk of the strands run between his fingers. Every time he looked at the lock of pure platinum closest to her face, he was stung with regret for not being fast enough in his rescue attempts, but he had always found her hair beautiful. Not for the first time that night, Logan wondered what had driven him to feign interest in Jean when he'd had Rogue so willing at his side. He could have handled the bouts of jealousy, perhaps even been honest with her then as he wanted to be now. If he had confessed that his feelings for her ran deeper than friendship, she may not have broken up with Bobby, but at least she would have continued speaking to him.

"I'm sorry," he said in the gentlest voice he could muster, before shaking Rogue's shoulder lightly to rouse her.

Twisting away from his touch, obviously still craving rest, Rogue curved her back to stretch. "Logan?" she murmured, her voice sweet and dreamy from sleep. She turned over and opened her eyes slowly. "Logan?" she repeated in surprise, sitting bolt upright.

"Don't scream," Logan advised, surprised to hear a note of amusement in his voice.

Rogue shook her head and kicked away the blankets, sliding back down to the mattress and regarding him with slitted eyes. "I won't," she promised, her voice softer than Logan had expected. "What are you doing? Why are you here again?" she asked, stressing the last word.

"Because I need you," Logan admitted flatly. "And you are going to listen to me. You might not like what you hear, but you have to do it. Not for me," he added, seing her calm expression give way to annoyance. "Because I owe you this."

Biting her lip, Rogue shrugged reluctantly. "Okay."

"There's a lot you don't know, and a lot of it is my fault. I never told you what you meant to me." Logan shifted, finally sitting down on the foot of the bed. "Do you know what I felt on the night Jean died?" he asked. "It was relief."

For a moment, he broke off, looking down at his hands. He could still remember what it had felt like to slide his claws into Jean's body, knowing it would end her life. Listening as Rogue gasped, Logan shook his head a little to clear his thoughts. "I liked Jean. She was a good woman and a valuable teammate, but once she was gone, I knew distractions wouldn't work, and that I couldn't keep running. I realized I'd have to 'fess up to you, about how I really felt." He looked into Rogue's eyes. "I had run out of excuses to pretend there was nothing between us, and to keep denying myself what I really want."

He closed his eyes, not sure what to expect, but every ounce of tension in his body poured away as he felt the bed shift and heard Rogue slide over beside him.

Rogue put her arms around him and pulled him in close, feeling as Logan caught her in a tight embrace and dragged her partially off the bed to settle her beside him. For a moment, the simply sat in silent. Logan buried his face in Rogue's hair, drinking in the familiar scent of her shampoo, and willed his breathing back into it's normal rhythm. Finally, he took Rogue's hands into his own. "I have stopped denying it. I hope it isn't too late."

"Logan," started Rogue, but he raised a finger to her lips to silence her.

"Not now. Don't say anything yet," advised Logan. He cradled her palm against the side of his face for awhile, enjoying the sensation of her light touch. "Think about it, and find me later. I'll be there when you're ready." With that, he rose from the bed. Every muscle in his body craved the her, and he could not prevent himself from gazing appreciatively at her curves, but Logan successfully reigned in his instincts. He had just now coaxed Rogue back into speaking terms, and he was not about to push his luck.

* * *

Breakfast was a somber affair. Rogue, completely exhausted from a night of virtually no sleep, her head swirling with thoughts too serious to contemplate in her current frame of mind, idly picked at the peel of an orange, ignoring the usual banter from her friends, all of whom seemed hyper instead of drained from lack of sleep.

Logan, she could not help noticing, was absent. Though he almost never joined the students for breakfast, it was rare not to see him prowling the halls in the early morning hours, looking for people out of line that he could threaten to get the blood pumping before his usual morning run. Funny, Rogue thought, to miss the smell of the coffee he drank after spending so long avoiding him. Logan was the only one who drank the bitter espresso he brewed himself as the sun rose, and it was a scent she associated with him irregardless of where she smelled it. Even in coffee shops, she would raise her head and unconsciously scan the room for him whenever she caught that familiar scent.

"Sleep well?" asked Bobby, who slid into his chair after giving her the usual peck on the cheek. For a moment, Rogue could do nothing more than blink in surprise, wondering why he was not already bombarding her with questions and sulking in that proud, discreet way he had. Then she remembered that Bobby had gone to sleep early. "Rogue?" he added, giving her a curious look as he noticed the circles under her eyes. "Something wrong?"

"Oh, Bobby," crowed Jubilee, grinning ear to ear as she leaned over the table to tell Bobby what had happened. "You missed it. Logan told Rogue he --" the words fell silent as Rogue jabbed her friend, hard, in the stomach with her elbow. "Hey, ouch!" moaned Jubilee, glaring at Rogue curiously. "You didn't have to do that so hard!"

Bobby dropped the toast he had been about to take a bite of, and blinked as he peered around the table at the hushed, knowing faces. "What did he tell you?" he asked Rogue finally, his smile hesitant and questioning.

"Oh," Rogue said, shrugging as if it was meaningless. "Nothing very important, really. Look, I'm still really tired. I was up half the night with --" instantly she broke off, reddening as Bobby glanced over at her again. "Nightmares," she added lamely, to cover her slip. "I think I'll go back to bed. It is Saturday, after all."

"Don't forget, we have a danger room session later this afternoon," Kitty reminded her. "With Logan," she added, placing indiscreet emphasis on the name.

Jubilee smirked. "Somehow, I don't think he'll be any more up to it than we are. I bet class gets cancelled, on account of his broken heart," she added, ignoring the glare she received from Rogue. "Enjoy your sleep, girl." She giggled. "Sweet dreams."

Fixing her friend with a look of sheer loathing, Rogue shook her head in disbelief. It was like Jubilee to play with fire, but did she really want Rogue to get caught? Bobby, though sensitive, was indeed somewhat dense about other people's feelings, but there was no way he would remain ignorant of the nature of their conversations much longer, especially with the hints Jubilee was dropping. She waved at Bobby with more enthusiasm than she felt, then slipped out of the kitchen door. Tired, she none the less walked past her own bedroom door towards Logan's, and found the door unlocked when she tried the knob.

"Mornin'," Logan offered, stretching out on the bed as Rogue let herself into the room and quickly closed the door behind her, twisting the bolt out of habit.

"I'm here to talk," Rogue said, stifling a yawn with her hand. She flashed Logan an apologetic smile. "Sorry. I didn't get much sleep last night," she explained unnecessarily. "Did I wake you up?" she asked suddenly, noting Logan's bare chest beneath the blankets.

He shook his head. "I was waiting for you." He motioned her over to the bed. "We'll talk, but first, sleep." Patting the space beside him, he nodded to indicate that Rogue should sit down.

She kicked off her slippers and undid the bathrobe she had worn down to the kitchen, revealing a body that Logan could not seem to tear his gaze away from. Self-consciously, she slid between the sheets as Logan watched, his expression warm. "You sure this is okay?" she asked, feeling suddenly nervous. A few hours ago, she had burned with hatred for him; now she was hot for him in an entirely different way. The manipulative crush, which she thought had vanished as he had gravitated closer to Jean, seemed to have found its way back, and her heart skipped a beat when Logan smiled at her and nodded, sliding an arm around her waist and pulling her closer.

"Finally," Logan muttered, breaking the tension. He heard Rogue laugh and uttered a chuckle of his own. "Don't worry, I meant it about getting some sleep. We can both use it, I'm sure." He felt her relax beside him and reached out, gently stroking her back as she slid over onto her stomach, curling up closer to him, so that their bodies touched. As her muscles loosened, Logan found himself unable to stop grinning like a fool. He listened to the soft rhythm of her breathing for a moment and, lulled, found his own eyes closing in slumber.


End file.
